


into the flame

by babblesmarie



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/M, Halamshiral, Non-specific Female Inquisitor, Post Corypheus, Unresolved, cullen's family is only mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 23:26:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14067888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babblesmarie/pseuds/babblesmarie
Summary: Corypheus has been defeated, yet the suffering burns on.





	into the flame

You hold her close, closer than any time before. You never want to let her go, the subtle scent of sweat and flowers in her hair. You bury yourself, moving deep and slow. You suffocate yourself in her, arms locked at her back.

She clings and swallows your sighs. She's scarred and worn but you caress every wound and fracture. She's more beautiful than anyone you have ever known. Corypheus is dead and gone and the aftermath of the battle has taken it's toll.

You are home and home is a small cabin in a small Ferelden village. Your sister and her husband have been so kind as to accept your request for a visit, eager to see you and her both.

She wears only a worn shirt of yours, her silhouette defined in the comfort of the fabric. The window is open, the night air unusually muggy, sweat tacky against your skin.

You hold her hips and her fingers curl in your hair. You're quiet, oh so quiet. She muffles a sound into your shoulder and you hold on tighter, you move sharp.

You want only her, your senses clouded and milky white. You're emotional. Maybe it's being back home, maybe it's the relief that you both had lived through the unthinkable. Maybe it's wanting the chaos to end, wanting what your sister has.

Yes, maybe it's wanting the simple life. A dog and small village house, a wife, a child, a home.

You mumble all of this into the vulnerable junction of her neck and she says do it. She asks what's stopping you. She has tears in her eyes when she says, I want that too.

She's seen enough for a lifetime, hurt enough for two. You kiss every inch of her face as you roll deeper, your love for her impossibly growing. Everything is hot and heavy, her ankles crossing at your back. Deeper and deeper, lost in the feeling of love and security. She holds you to her as you shake, rolling in pleasure herself.

She holds you closer still as you come down, not yet, and, don't move, on the tip of her tongue. You hold a hand to her stomach, pressing breathless kisses to her cheeks.

 

 

It's been weeks and she still bolts up in the early hours of the morning, her stomach contents making a reappearance. You insist that she see a healer and she declines. She's due at Halamshiral the next morning.

You worry about her. She's hurting, her hand causing her more and more pain by the day. She's also become more insistent on finding Solas. You worry it may be too much for her to take. You worry for her health, but as long as there is a matter more pressing to her, you know there is no convincing her to take things easy.

 

 

The dead Qunari shows up at the Winter Palace and your heartbeat has hardly calmed in the hours since. The Inquisitor puts her life on the line once again and all people can see is a threat. She disappears through the mirror and comes back, pain lancing through her arm and she looks green. You try to catch her alone but before you know it she's gone again.

Each trip through the mirror has you more worried. She loses it, eyes wild and hand gripped tightly to herself. She's on the verge of tears, you can tell. She screams like you haven't heard before, calling out everyone in the room. Her eyes light up and she says she can't handle the pain. That her hand is trying to kill her. You want to cry when you hear that.

Then she falls to the ground and the sound she makes is horrific. You think that the time for making plans is over and you rush to her. You call for a healer. You hold her head in your hands and pray.

 

 

The healer takes care of her. She's asleep but the healer pulls you aside. She tells you that the Inquisitor can't handle too much more stress, that it isn't good for the baby.

Your heart stops then, you ask for the healer to repeat herself. The Inquisitor, your wife, is with child and you hadn't known. She had been risking so much more than you knew. She wakes and you have one hand in hers, the other on her belly, as if you could shield your child from the horribleness you had fallen back into.

You ask her, did you know. She is silent. You ask her, in a soft voice, no accusation at all, why she kept the secret. She says, she wanted to wait until after the council meeting. After the first trip into the mirror, she says, she didn't think she would come back alive. That this might be the one that does her in, that takes her from this world. She looks into your eyes, sad as you've ever seen her, and tells you that you couldn't lose a wife and a child in the same day.

You cry, then. You don't even try to stop yourself. You cling to every part of her, her hand in your hair. You cry because no one else can win this fight. She has to go, and you have to let her.

She steps into the mirror and you watch her leave. Your entire world hangs on the plan you've constructed. If she doesn't make it back you know that your life is over, that there wouldn't be anything else worth living for.

 


End file.
